


Seasons: Taiyō

by KeiKatayama



Series: Memoir [5]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: "Do my back?", Christophe Giacometti & Victor Nikiforov Friendship, Cluelessness, Day At The Beach, Day off from training, Heatwaves in Kyushu, M/M, Sunblock, Sunburn, Tales of debauched vacations, The tale of the girl with a bowl on her head, Yuri feeling jealous, coming out to yourself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-04-22 22:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14318490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeiKatayama/pseuds/KeiKatayama
Summary: The third addition to the Seasons collection!This one takes place during Yuri and Victor's first year together, before they became a couple, gearing up for the Grand Prix to start and still learning about each other.Very simple premise: the sun comes out, and Victor decides to take Yuri to the beach.Minor updates: 19/11/18





	Seasons: Taiyō

**Author's Note:**

> On the evening of Tuesday 17th April 2018, I was in Bath, Somerset to honour the twelve years since my mother passing. I'd had a fantastic meal, and was taking a circular route back to my hotel, to see what the Royal Crescent looked like at night.
> 
> I'm glad I did. The Crescent itself didn't look like much in the dark, and it was windy and a bit more chilly than my hoodie could deal with, but...
> 
> In the very middle, as I stood at the edge, contemplating taking a picture, I saw... I saw a young man being kissed. He had his back to me, and I could see a hand on the back of his head, holding him in place. This might sound strange, but I couldn't take my eyes away, because my gut was right; he wasn't kissing a woman. The kissers finally parted - I commend them for kissing that long, it looked like a very nice kiss - and lo and behold, the other kisser that I couldn't see was only slightly shorter, but definitely masculine in build. The two then walked away, to the other end of the Crescent, holding hands, and disappeared round the corner.
> 
> I really don't know why, but I was very moved by this sight, so late in the evening, on the most prestigious road in this historical place when I'm fairly certain they had no other business being there. Maybe it's because I've been writing for the Yuri!!! ON ICE fandom for several months now, have spent every single day thinking about Yuri and Victor...
> 
> But mostly I think it's because I was born in a city, my beloved Brighton, where this is common occurrence, and I now live somewhere that's so normative it's a little bad for the soul. Love is meant to have variation, and I miss seeing it.
> 
> So... I dedicate this to those two strangers daring to be so affectionate in a monochrome place.

_Seasons_

* * *

August

Hasetsu

* * *

太陽

_Taiyō_

* * *

* * *

When I woke, it was with confusion. I was certain it was later than normal.

I'd gotten used to waking early. Ē to... I should say, I had gotten used to _being_ woken up early... and Victor was used to banging on my door to wake me up, though he rarely opened the door or came in. Actually... he had never come in. Not once. Not then, anyway.

I sighed, turned over, reached for my phone and squinted at it.

9:12  
Tuesday 2 August

A jolt went through me as I realised I was already a couple of hours late, but then there was a knock on the door. "Yuri?"

"V-Victor...?" I dashed up, seizing my glasses from my desk and wrenched the door open, nearly slamming into my coach. His eyes widened at my panic. "Suimasen! I woke up late and -"

Victor beamed at me, and I forgot whatever I was about to say (he'd heard it before). "Ohaiyo, Yuri!"

I paused, confused. "O-Ohaiyo. Ano... aren't... aren't I late for... for practice?"

"No." Victor chuckled and seized my shoulders with both hands. "Yuri."

"... Hai?"

"Calm down."

"... H-Hai."

He chuckled again. "Look out the window."

"... Eh?" I looked back, and he released me so I could climb back onto my bed. I pulled the curtains open and turned my head away quickly as the light scorched my irises. "ARGH!" I blinked and adjusted to the sudden brightness and finally looked out as Victor openly giggled at my vampiric reaction. "Oh... the sun's out." I looked over at him with a smile. "Looks like it'll be a beautiful day." A pity. We'd be inside all day, on the ice... in the cold...

"Yep. Let's go to the beach!"

"... Ē to..."

I realised then what he was wearing. Or rather... what he also  _wasn't_ wearing. Victor was in a pair of beach shorts... and nothing else. A white t-shirt dangled from a pocket, rather than... on. He looked... he looked fantastic...

_StopstaringYuristopstaringYuristopstaring..._

"Have you got sunblock?" He asked, not noticing that I was trying not to blush or make it obvious that I couldn't look at him, or more specifically at his perfectly toned chest...

"... Huh?"

Victor chuckled again. "Don't worry, I'll ask Hiroko-san. Get your things ready and come down for breakfast!" And he left me to it, leaving the door open. I stared at his retreating back... at the sublime curve of his spine between his shoulder blades...

 _Get a grip_...

I got off my bed, just stood there for a moment. We were going to the beach... right... Maybe I was still asleep. If so... don't... don't wake up just yet.

I went and got my trunks. What did I need... I didn't remember the last time I had been to the beach. I think I was a teenager, still in high school, with Yuuko-chan and Nishigori-kun, before the triplets 'happened' and they got married, before I left for Detroit (not entirely unrelated, those things...). Life long before Victor, when things were far less surreal.

I was surprised to realise I didn't miss those times.

I shoved a beach towel into a bag, with my wallet, sunglasses and a book, went and brushed my teeth et cetera. I too wondered where Oka-san kept the sunblock. I didn't burn easily, but... with Victor's pale Russian skin... I was picturing lobster effects, and I blushed imagining his skin at all... I groaned at myself. It had been a long summer.

Slowly I made my way downstairs, to be greeted by the sight of Victor packing bento boxes into a cool bag, thanking my mother for them in heavily accented Japanese. She beamed; I think Oka-san adored Victor - or Vicchan as she always called him, even though he knew now that that had been the name of my dog, Makkachin's much smaller doppelgänger - even more than... than... umm... _evenmorethanIdid_... oh, for God's sake...

Victor looked up and saw me hovering in the doorway and I flinched, feeling caught, but he smiled and beckoned me in. He handed me my power shake, winking as I deflated and started to obediently chug it down. Ugh... did I really need this if I wasn't training that day? Vile things. He smiled sympathetically when I abandoned it halfway, trying not to retch, and he took it from me before I tried to finish it, and handed me a plate of toast, pouring the green concoction down the sink, and took peanut butter and jelly out of the fridge. When...  _where_ did he get those? I only mentioned  _once_ that I had discovered the holy combo of P &J in my last few months in Detroit, having turned my nose at it all the years before.

Victor did this sometimes, even in the early days. He liked... feeding me, even though I was on a diet for training. Not like I was a baby or something, he didn't do airplanes with chopsticks, but... he liked this, he liked sorting out breakfast. Talking about how healthy recipes were, or how unhealthy (and the benefit of those too, albeit more a mental one). He liked taking care of me, in really simple ways. He liked... he liked combing my hair sometimes, after the onsen. I... I liked that too.

I... it was strange, looking back on even just a few months and realising how I had gotten used to the little things he did without even really noticing. I remember... I remember the first time he saw the bruises on my feet from my skates after practice, and how he sat on the bench and tugged my foot on to his lap before I could protest. I complained that my feet probably smelt bad after the long day, but he just shrugged, like it was nothing, and grabbed a towel from my bag, flung it over my foot and started massaging it through the towel, easing his thumbs into all the right spots, gently over the worst bruises so I didn't wince too much and hard over particular nerves to make me groan. It... it felt so good that I sighed, even laid back on the bench because it was too tiring holding myself up, and thought nothing of it as he chuckled and leant down and unlaced my other skate, massaged that foot too. I remember looking up at him... he had such a tender look on his face as he stared down at my ruined feet, concentrating on providing relief for me. I saw another side of him that day.

But anyway. It was also strange that, when we stepped into our flip-flops at the door and waved goodbye to Oto-san, I felt cold when Victor looked at me with his sunglasses, and I couldn't see his eyes at all. It felt like they cut me off from him. It was just... wrong.

* * *

* * *

He was so obvious, and yet...

Oh. Yuri, gomen! I... I completely forgot. I never... I never told you why _I_ wanted a day off.

I was... homesick. Really homesick. I had been away for months by then, had gone through the heavenly beauty of sakura season in Hasetsu, the gentle rising of heat through the spring, and then been shocked at the torrential effort of the rainy season in Kyushu - the rain simply didn't let up, for days on end! - and then the muggy sweat of summer began. I was told that we had it lucky on the coast, that the sea breeze took away the worst.

I'm from Russia. Summer for me was _at least_ ten degrees colder. I was so relieved every time we stepped into Ice Castle to be blasted with air conditioning. I welcomed the shiver on the ice. It was familiar.

I missed a very specific feeling about home, about St Petersburg; it was what I knew. That familiarity was a blanket. In Hasetsu, as charming as it was, even though Yuri smiled at how I had found beauty in his hometown that he hadn't appreciated himself before, I... I sometimes felt out of place.

Absolutely no one but myself made me feel like that. Yuri had... been awkward to begin with, trying to figure out his own place with me, but after... he and his family treated me like I was one of them, not a guest that just simply didn't leave. His wonderful mother was... I  _adored_ her. I adored them all. Even Mari, her keen observant eyes always glinting with amusement, seeing through me, never ever made me feel unwelcome.

One night, when Yurio had only recently arrived, I went out for a drink and bumped into her and Minako. Minako was... busy with very good looking company, but Mari and I, over many beers and Google Translate, managed to have a very frank conversation that, because we were so drunk, Google was having trouble keeping up with our typos. Yes, I really fancied her brother. Yes, I wanted to do things to him, with him that she definitely didn't want to know about. And yes, if Yuri wasn't interested, I'd -

She shook her head.  _I don't think you need to worry about that_ , she typed. But it was early days... I didn't see it, myself, not yet.

By August however... hmm!

I didn't want to be over-analytical about it, to overthink small things but... I _knew_. Don't you always know, when you've caught someone's eye... that feeling in your gut when someone likes you? I knew. And I was surprising myself; Yuri's eyes on me made me feel... _shy_.

I did analyse _that_ feeling. It was unlike me. But... I trusted it, at least. I knew that Yuri liked me... whether he was aware of it however was another matter. Whether he was  _comfortable_ with it was also another story. I could make a move... and he might still push me away. No; my gut told me to wait. It had never told me to wait for anything in my life.

And it told me to get through the homesickness.

At my worst moments of missing home, a feeling I concealed from everyone, Yuri would appear, blushing with shyness, to tell me... what had you interrupted my thoughts with before?

To tell me everyone was having ice cream, did I want some. That there was going to be a festival, everyone dressed up in traditional wear, would I like to come. That the Nishigori's wanted to go to the movies, did I want to babysit the triplets with him. That it was too hot tonight to stay indoors, he was going for a walk; did Makkachin and I want to come.

The answer was always yes.

Did you know, moya lyubov'?

I hadn't heard my mother tongue since Yurio, and even then I pointedly only spoke English. The English wasn't an issue - I had been lucky to have a good teacher at school, and Yakov made a point of ensuring that his skaters would never have language barriers as competitors - but... it is very tiring, being surrounded by a language you don't recognise, and trying your hardest, every day, to understand more and more of it. I had been in Hasetsu for nearly half a year, and I was picking bits up but... I never felt like I _had_ to learn. I had no long term plans, I had no idea that one day Hasetsu would truly be my and my husband's home. The only person I  _had_ to talk to was Yuri, and his English was, if anything, more fluent than mine from living in Detroit. Yuri told me that his first year in the States was tough, that he had been lucky to train with Celestino; Cialdini was a coach of international renown, whose students came from across the world, and for whom he had learnt to be patient and adjust his speech as their English improved with time and exposure; English was not Celestino's native tongue either. For me however... only Yuri consistently paused for me, to explain what people were saying, although it was kind of... soothing, sometimes, just to listen to Hiroko and Toshiya and Mari natter away with their Kyushu accents, listen to Yuri speak in his natural tongue. Sometimes I just had to watch him; his expressions, and the rises and falls of his voice, told me enough of what their conversation was about.

I did this every single day for months. I was exhausted. I needed a day where I could speak in a language that came naturally to me. Or Russian, to Makkachin. I needed a day off.

And so did Yuri. The CSK Championship was looming for him, and he was starting to get worked up about it every time I mentioned it. I had stopped mentioning it, but it made no difference. He was worried about repeating his performance at the Nationals at the end of last year... or at least, I thought it was that simple at the time. And... Yuri hadn't had a day off the ice since he'd lost weight... I had tried to make him take days off before, and he'd still managed to escape to skate, late in the evening. It wouldn't surprise me if, at the end of the day, he ran over to Ice Castle even if I forbade him explicitly. He was stubborn like that, I was learning, had yet to fully appreciate.

But it was the morning, and he wasn't protesting to my plan, although he became shy again as we left, as we walked along. I didn't understand why; I had my t-shirt on, I wasn't half-naked like I had been first thing. I didn't consciously realise it was because he'd never seen me wear sunglasses, though through the day I started noticing how uncomfortable he looked when he couldn't make eye contact when we talked. I started peering at him over the edge of them so that he could, without even thinking about it.

By the time we got to the beach, it was already surprisingly busy. It was the summer holidays, so there were kids everywhere, big groups of friends meeting up. There was the odd family, though mostly mothers with younger children; in Japan, they don't get a lot of time off work, it is not the done thing (Yuri told me once he was absolutely astonished when a British student in Detroit told him that in the UK, the statutory minimum for paid time off work approximates over an entire month of the year. A month! How fantastic!). Though Makkachin was very excited to see so many young people, many of them going 'kawaii!' at him, Yuri preferred somewhere apart. I didn't mind; we found a spot that suited both of us, not too far from the sea's edge, far away enough from anyone else for his comfort, and... well, I don't know what Makkachin's criteria was, but he eventually re-joined us and looked content enough; he had a sprawling snooze on Yuri's beach towel, under the umbrella I insisted we hire.

It was around then that I started to realise what a fantastic idea this was after all... God bless sun block.

* * *

* * *

...

... Ē to...

He... umm... Victor, I mean, err... ano... kuso...

 _Get it together, Katsuki, you're not a virgin anymore._ Far _from it..._

"Yuri?"

"Hmm?" I was on my knees, adjusting my towel on the sand, about to lie down with my book. I looked up at Victor to see a guilty look be replaced with playfulness. He then tossed something at me; I caught it. It was a bottle of Banana Boat sports sunblock. Factor 50??

"Do my back?"

Do your... nani? Eh?  _Eh? EHHH???_

I really have no idea what kind of expression I had on my face, but Victor started chuckling, and offered a shy apology in my native tongue. It was weird hearing him say the odd phrase in Japanese then. "Gomen, Yuri. I should have asked your mother to do it before we left, I wasn't thinking." He started to frown, and I noticed he already had the lotion on his face, his nose in particular looking overly greasy. "It's okay, I'll ask someone to -"

My thumb flipped the cap on the bottle before I even knew I'd made a decision. We both looked down at my hands, surprised, and then Victor smiled, waited. Oh... yeah... _Thumb, you got us into this mess, you can get us out of it too, get on with it_...

I shuffled closer, trying - and  _obviously_ failing - not to blush, and squirted some of the lotion into my hand, closed and dropped the bottle on to Victor's towel next to mine. As Victor turned his back to me I rubbed my hands together to spread the lotion evenly across them and... come on, stop being so silly about this, it's just sun block... I had to stop myself from slapping my hands on Victor's back in a rush, and instead focused. Be methodical about it...

I noticed his shoulders were already glistening where he had been able to reach himself, so I started with his neck, rubbing thoroughly into Victor's hairline, and smoothed my hands down his back, spreading out my hands in flat palms as I did, trying to keep the lotion even. I tried not to think too much, and when that failed I focused on... he's just a friend, you should do this kind of thing for friends, he'll burn otherwise, his skin's really soft, no, you've got lotion catching between your fingers, you missed a spot there, even that bit out there, it's a bit splodgey, don't think about how this is one of the few times you've properly touched Victor, stopstopstop...

He moaned complainingly when I seized my hands back from where my fingers had gone off on their own and had started running soothing circles over Victor's shoulders. "Hmmm... don't stop, that's nice..." He whined.

I chuckled, trying to sound lighter about it all than I did. "You're all done," I said, but croaked on it and repeated.

Victor nodded and looked over his shoulder at me. "Arigato, Yuri." I smiled back at him, this time without effort. It was strange hearing him speak Japanese but... I also really liked it. I liked that he tried. Victor giggled at me. "Are you going to be rocking the tan-lines look?" Huh? He gestured to my torso, and I blushed. I was still wearing my t-shirt. "Come on, I'll do your back too."

"I...!" I realised I didn't have an excuse. Besides... it was really, really hot; there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Whilst Victor mercifully turned away to attend to the places he'd forgotten - I don't think I'd ever thought to put sunblock on the tops of my feet too - I stripped out of my t-shirt, folding it self-consciously, keeping it as a shield for a moment longer and then Victor picked up the bottle again, splurted more lotion into his hand - I have yet to encounter a sunblock bottle that didn't seemingly fart every time it was squeezed - and lathered up. He nodded to the edge of my towel;  _come on_!

I shuffled forward, to where he'd gestured, and tried not to start when he knelt up and moved to sit behind me, his knees either side of me. "Don't forget to do your chest too, it'll look a bit weird if I do that for you too!"

I felt my cheeks burn and then his hands, strong and greasy, landed on the back of my neck and glided down my back in smooth movements, before returning swiftly to the top and spread out over my shoulders. It... it felt...  _it felt really good_... no wonder, his thumbs immediately started digging in. "Yuri?"

"H-Hmm?" It was the best I could do.

"Are you alright? You feel... tense..."

 _Just don't take your hands off my shoulders and I'll be absolutely fine_. "Oh... sorry..."

"No, it's alright, but..." Victor leant round, frowning worriedly at me. "Hmm. You don't look..." _Oh god, please don't see right through me._ "You don't actually look tense..." He directed his frown to my back. "Do you get knots in your shoulders, Yuri?"

"Huh? Oh..." With my anxiety? Of course I did... when Celestino used to send me to see a physiotherapist, she used to tease me saying she'd cancelled all her appointments after me, today was the day the knots were going! They never did, and it was  _excruciating_ having her try... my new physiotherapist in Hasetsu for training was silent, but it was a bit alarming when I heard her knuckles crack on occasion. "Err... yeah..."

"Hmm..." I could hear the frown in his voice. "I can feel them, right here..." and he wiggled his thumbs, right... yep, right all up there... ah... "Does it hurt?" Only when you touch them, otherwise I'm so used to them I don't notice. "You should have said, Yuri..." What good would that have done? It... it would make the physio hurt even more, I was fine... except when you dug right there, no -

"AH!"

"Sorry!" Victor stopped digging and soothed with his palms instead.

"Īe..."

I slapped my hand over my mouth. Victor peered over my shoulder inquisitively. "Yuri? You alright?"

"H-Hai... I mean, yes..." I was about to say _don't stop_ , but... kuso...

Victor gave a contented hum, and returned to the business at hand and carried on smearing my back with sunblock. He teased me, poking me pointedly at the band of my shorts and telling me I could get the edges myself. It was all over too soon, and suddenly Victor was handing the bottle back to me, telling me he was going for a swim.

"But you just -!" _Put the sunblock on_ , I meant to say, but Victor's attention was on Makkachin, who looked up from my side.

"Makkachin!" The old dog humphed, listening. "Guard Yuri!" And Victor pointed at me, and Makkachin wagged his tail, barked and suddenly jumped to his feet, and tried to clamber over me, trying to lick my face.

"Makka-!" I giggled helplessly as the poodle got sandy paws over my torso. Why did  _I_ need guarding? Makkachin climbed over my back, his front legs over my shoulders, licking at one of my ears, but then he paused as Victor smiled down at us and left, walking elegantly over the sand to the sea. Makkachin and I watched as our favourite human dipped his toe in, yelped, waved and ran his hand through his hair sheepishly, only just caught my returning wave as he turned and dived in determinedly and started swimming away.

"Makkachin..." The poodle panted in my ear. "Daizu kete."  _I can't get your master out of my head... and it's driving me crazy_ , I wanted to say. But - and I know this is completely irrational - a part of me was worried that if I actually said that out loud to Makkachin, he'd figure out a way of ratting me out. Yeah, I know...

I forlornly picked up the Banana Boat, finished the task of oiling up, and laid down on my front to read. After a distracted minute, I turned so I faced the sea, so I could watch Victor over the top, so I could see when he came back. Makkachin snoozed.

I... this will sound so silly but... I missed him.

* * *

* * *

Not God bless sunblock... curse it.

Not really, but... too much. It was too much. I had to get away before I did something stupid.

 _It was so, so,_ so _tempting..._

It really wasn't like I hadn't touched Yuri before. When he had less clothing, even. But it was all under the safe net of coaching. It was on the ice, in his family's onsen, in the lobby of Ice Castle. It was under the careful and bemused watch of his friends and family. Not... under the summer sun, with sand between our toes and my hands greasy with high factor lotion. Not... ugh...

As I plunged into the starkly cold water, instantly sobered and clear and clean, it was time to just stop denying the obvious.

I was in love with Yuri. Completely, hopelessly, in a way I genuinely had never felt for anyone in my entire life...  _and the stupid idiot didn't have a god-damned clue_...  _which just made it worse because it was even more endearing_... I was being tortured slowly.

Even worse was that - I can just picture Yuri's expression if he had known back then - I'd stopped thinking about the far naughtier things I wanted to do to him, things behind closed doors... actually no, that's not accurate, I still thought about those things too, but right there, on that beach...

I'd wanted to reach out and hold his hand as we walked there. I wanted to slide my fingers up from his back, over those knots at the base of his neck, and into his hair to see how soft it was. I wanted to hold my fingers there, and kiss him over his shoulder, know the taste of his lips on mine. I wanted to drape myself over his back  _exactly_ as Makkachin just did... I wanted to tell everyone on the beach that this beautiful man was mine and no one else could know him like I wanted to know him.

I wanted Yuri to be mine. I wanted him to be my boyfriend, my partner... not just a lover or a fuck-buddy or a fling. And I wanted to be certain. I didn't want just that gut feeling... I wanted to be sure... that he liked me too.  _Wanted_ me too.

Behind him, I had smiled so much, because his reactions were so priceless. It took a split second for him to forget to be shy and  _melt_ at my touch. It was why I was surprised to find those knots - his back was  _solid_ , how he could move his shoulders at all I didn't know - in his back; he was far from tense by then.

Whilst I had touched him before, this was the first time that he really touched  _me_. His hands were... hesitant on my back. It had made me smile. His fingers slowly ran easy circles over my skin, needlessly. It felt nice... it was over too soon. Before I could stop myself I commented, and his answering chuckle was obviously forced.

I wondered what it felt like for him. To touch me, I mean, both physically and mentally. I had noticed that no one ever touched him, or hugged him, or anything at all. Everyone was so careful to respect his space. I had learnt to do that too, months ago on this very beach even, that he had pushed others away before without thinking. But since that day... I got the impression that he... that Yuri missed my little flirtations. It was why I very carefully judged when and how to touch him... slowly he was warming to it. Thank God, because I wanted to touch him  _all the time_... I was glad that Makkachin sometimes slept in Yuri's room (when he did Yuri kept the door open so Makkachin could come and go when he wanted and needed. They looked so cute together!) because then I got some... privacy.

A wave crashed into me, yanking me rudely from my thoughts, and I paused my strokes, spluttering from the unexpected intake of seawater. I looked to the shore, not all that far away, and realised how far down the beach I had swam.

Let's be honest; for some, far too many, it's difficult to tell sometimes one face from another when you have dozens of the same ethnic group in front of you. Let's also be blunt about this: it's _lazy_ , because of course it's perfectly possible to tell one person from any other based on  _thousands_ of variants. I could pick out Yuri anywhere; for a Japanese man, he was actually taller than average, had a distinct face, a distinct smile; the shape and size of his big, brown eyes, the gentle curve of his nose. Even the way he held himself and his slight frame was signature and recognisable; I could tell him apart from just the way he  _walked_.

All the same... when he wasn't there to be found, I started to doubt myself. Could I not pick him out after all? I prided myself on it by then. I could even pick his voice out from a crowd, for all its softness, even in his Kyushu dialect. I scanned the beach again, narrowing my eyes, second guessing. No... Yuri looked young for his age, a gift from his Japanese heritage, who I swear have immortality in their veins, but he didn't look like he was in school still (that would be weird if he did). So where...?

Note that I looked for Yuri first. Not my dog. Of course, if I had looked for Makkachin, it would have been a lot easier.

"Woof-woof!"

I peered down the beach and started at the sight of Makkachin at the water's edge, directly in front of Yuri, over a hundred yards away. Yuri had his hand over his eyes, and, seeing me looking his way, waved. I smiled, instantly cheered and stuck my arm high out of the sea to wave back. Even from this distance I could see Yuri reacting shyly... but he waved again anyway.

I was a glutton for torture clearly. I swam back eagerly.

* * *

* * *

I slowly lowered my hand. Victor had seen me... he'd waved back... I couldn't control the smile that spread over my face.

I called to Makkachin, but he was playing with the waves, pawing at the retreating water and then running away as it came back for him. Kawaī. I chuckled, watched him for a bit, and then returned to my book.

I hadn't read a page. Hmmm.

It was a very old book, from my childhood. I had found it a few days ago, had remembered the stories and wanted to re-familiarise. But present life was proving too distracting.

Victor was a good swimmer. I'd been watching. He'd been swimming  _against_ the current, but his strokes had been powering through, arms perfectly arched to spear into the water, and I switched back to my normal glasses to watch as he swam out of my focus. I saw when he stopped, caught by a wave, and looked back to shore, disorientated. Makkachin had gotten back up then to bark -  _here we are!_ \- and I waved before I could stop myself.

I... I was glad that I did.

I sighed and leant back on to my towel, under the cover of the umbrella. I was tempted to get in the water too, to swim, to cool off, but...

It's because I grew up in an onsen, I think. At least, that's my excuse. I grew up with water that is hot, that is clean, that soothes. Swimming pools smell terrible from the chlorine and the inevitable effect of too many people and not enough maintenance - I grew up  _cleaning_ the onsens, I  _know_ \- and the sea smells too and makes my skin feel sensitive when the salt dries. Plus humans put a lot of crap - literally - into the ocean. I can get over that to eat fish - because I've always eaten fish and I've no better rationale than that, I'm aware of my hypocrisy - but not to actually immerse myself in it. Of course, if Victor wanted to go in, I wasn't going to stop him; the sea's pretty big, and Hasetsu does have very clean beaches and yes, I know that it's all mostly in my head... which is the problem.

(Years later, I would have absolutely no issue swimming in the sea in Koh Ai. Because it was  _Koh Ai_ , and the sea was more aqua than Victor's eyes.)

Victor emerged, James Bond-esque without even trying, and weaved a path to... not to me, where was he going? He caught my puzzled look and pointed to the showers at the top of the beach near the street. Ah. Right. _You need to stop staring, Yuri..._

I couldn't stop. Water clung to his body... I envied it for a ridiculous second.

I couldn't watch whilst he showered the salt water off of him, but I could hear the splash of the water, hear the catch in his throat because it was cold. I could imagine it just fine, of his hands rubbing his skin clean...

I was twenty-three years old, and - this is perhaps the most absurd bit - I was having, finally, to come to terms with the fact that I...  _might_... be... might be... be... g-gay...

...

It's strange, thinking about it years on. You see, I only knew for certain when I kissed Victor for the first time (the first time he kissed me didn't count, because it came out of  _nowhere_ ) and my whole body sang with how right it felt, and so it has felt every time since. But...

Victor once asked me whereabouts on the spectrum I sat. It was rather an... awkward moment, not just because of the topic, but... well, my head was rebooting at the time.

 _"Yuri?"_ It took a moment to remember that that was my name, and when I did I could only hum to say I was listening. _"Are you gay or bi?"_

It took another moment to understand the nature of the question. I was... err... slumped on top of him, still _inside_ of him, breathing like I'd run a marathon. Given that Victor had come seconds before me, digging his nails into my ass so deeply that I was certain he'd scratched me, the pain staving me off just long enough to prolong his pleasure as best as I could before succumbing to my own... this was an overly sober conversation starter.

I slipped out of him - it was my first time without a condom, both of us finally having clean reports from the doctor that Yakov had very carefully found for us, and it felt so much more... intimate - and Victor whined at my absence and clung to me, so that I didn't move otherwise.

 _"Victor?"_ He hummed in return, kissing the top of my head, drawing patterns on my back with his fingers. _"How... how can you_ think _right now?"_

He laughed beneath me, rumbling my human mattress. _"Not sure. My mind's uncannily clear at the moment. Want to evade the question entirely?"_

_"What was it again?"_

He pinched my sides, but I was still so sated I couldn't move at all in protest and just whined. He chuckled again and soothed where he'd pinched me, and then rolled with me to his side, still wrapped round me with no intention of letting me go soon. He reached behind him for the duvet and folded it over us, tucking me in tightly to him. I really didn't mind; I was thinking about his question.

 _"Victor...?"_ He looked down at me, worried. I realised my nervousness had already leaked into my tone. _"I... I don't know..."_

I struggled for a moment in his eyes and then buried my face into his chest again, seeking safety. I... I felt vulnerable, not knowing, being new to it all still.

We were living in St Petersburg at the time, and I was training for the Four Continents. In the back of my head I was permanently worried that the bubble would burst at any moment and Victor would be gone, and I'd be left with a thousand questions of myself that I had no answers for, and half of myself gone with him. There were so many parts of myself that had only come out because of Victor, because of his love, parts of myself that had changed because of him. All I knew was...

 _"I-I... I've only ever... only ever really wanted this with... with_ you _..."_ I looked back up at him, at my beloved Victor's face as he lit up, and I smiled, as teasingly as I could pull off. _"Is there a box that just has your name?"_

Victor gave a funny hiccoughing laugh then, and hid his face into my neck, burrowing and hugging me tightly. I closed my eyes, feeling good and happy, and was shortly asleep.

I wasn't teasingly, not really. I thought about it as I practiced  _Eros_ for the 4CCs, for the Worlds, and slowly took away the original story. The  _Eros_ I was working on that summer, from which I was taking a break that day on the beach, was abstract; my last performance of it was far from.

(It got me the top spot on the Worlds' leader board that night, higher than Yurio even. I  _begged_ Victor to fuck me, hard, that night, and I still won the Free Skate. I  _earned_  that Gold medal.)

I've liked the look of plenty of people in the past, like any other person. And a few have... flirted with me before, I guessed... I gave them, men and women, exactly the same response as I gave Victor that first time he suggested that I tell him everything about me. I... well, according to Phichit, when I'm drunk, I'm a terrible flirt. As in, I flirt, but I'm terrible at it. Unless I'm dancing, then I'm a lot better. Phichit's comment, when Victor told him the full story that accompanied Chris' photos of Sochi, was...

_"Huh. It finally worked."_

... Eh...

Anyway... the thing is that maybe... maybe Victor was always going to be it for me. From the moment that Yuuko-chan introduced me to him as a child on her tiny TV at Ice Castle, I understood was beauty was. He became the measure, the standard. How many people have his eye colour, his hair colour, how many people have both combined with the point of his nose and the sharpness of his jaw? That's just his head! Anyone else would have just paled in comparison, as unwise as that is. I don't want to imagine how things might have been if I had never met the real Victor.

But on that beach I had no hindsight. I had memories of Phichit teasing me about my drunken antics in college, older memories of confusing crushes on Yuuko-chan and Minako-sensei, and no frame of reference for Victor's flirting. I thought he had just been teasing me the whole time, particularly as he backed off me as we became friends. I didn't even know that he was bisexual! Why would I? The only rumours about him that had ever been confirmed involved women - he himself had mentioned his first  _girlfriend_ , not  _boyfriend_ \- and rumours involving men were written off as tabloid trash, like scandals that got retracted because they ran out of steam for the stories. I didn't actually know an enormous amount  _about_ him. I had already figured out by then that Victor hid behind his curiosity in me; as long as he was asking me questions, I wasn't asking them back.

One of the key things that circled my mind, like a vulture, as I struggled with this growing attraction that I could barely hide let alone stop, was... even if I did like Victor, wanted him even... he might not want me back...  _by default_.

So don't risk it.

"Mars or Venus?"

... Huh?

I started as water -  _cold_ water - dripped on to my forehead, and I came to myself. Victor was leaning over me, seemingly upside down, his damp hair falling toward me. He was grinning goofily down at me. I loved it when he smiled at me like that, even then. "You looked like you were in a world of your own. So which planet? Mars or Venus?"

I blushed, feeling caught, tried to smile back less nervously. "A-Ano..."

He just chuckled and plonked himself down on his beach towel next to me, sitting cross-legged, and pulled a spare towel from his bag to dry his hair. "Hungry? I'm starving, it must be lunch time."

Yes I was, but not for food. For... clarity. And...  _you know_...

I sat up too. "You're always starving," I teased.

Victor laughed openly. "Then tell your mother to not cook so wonderfully, I'd eat less then."

I laughed back, genuinely amused at the thought. "No you wouldn't, you'd just go to Nagahama Ramen more often."

He grinned. "Yeah, probably. Not joking though, I never used to eat this much back in Russia."

 _... Hontōni?!_ That really did make me smile, unrestrained. I loved it when he said things like that, that cast tiny and forgotten Hasetsu in such favourable lights.

Victor smiled at me softly, affectionately, and passed me my bento box. "Itadakimas'!"

Of course that was the word that Victor had learnt to pronounce perfectly first.

* * *

* * *

Phoo, it was hot.

After we ate, we both shuffled our towels to seek the shade of the umbrella and laid back. Yuri laid on his front, propped up to read - I didn't know what; it was in Japanese, the spine weathered and the cover so old the illustrations were hard to make out. He asked me if it was okay if he did for a while, looking apologetic. I don't know why; I didn't mind. It's what people do on the beach, isn't it? Or maybe I was thinking of holidays... In any case, I had my thoughts to myself, and the silence was unexpectedly comfortable.

I people-watched for a while. We had some interesting neighbours.

A couple walked past; high school age, the guy considerably taller than the girl, with hair cut like something off a cat-walk; the girl looking far more demure, and blushing like mad when the boy held her hand. She made me think of Yuri, except she looked more annoyed at her vulnerability; Yuri always looked apologetic. It was kind of funny; the guy was so clearly into her.

Further down an unusual threesome was playing triangular volleyball; a very short boy with bleach-blond hair, the edges of a kanji tattoo peaking out from the collar of his t-shirt - surely he was too young for a tattoo? - was talking to a very beautiful girl with straight brown hair who looked a couple of years older than the sulky boy (I'm sure he was pretending to sulk; he reminded me of Yurio... but even shorter), and a guy who... I couldn't tell his age actually, though I'm sure he was older than his friends. I say friends; the girl might have been his girlfriend (actually, strike that, I'm sure he  _wanted_ her to be his girlfriend. I didn't blame him, if I'd been younger and Yuri wasn't... ahem). The eldest, with uncanny blue eyes and purple-black hair, was picking on the younger boy, making the girl snap at him, and the youngest gave back as good as he got. They looked like good friends.

Next to them were a regular bunch of teenagers; two boys and three girls. The taller of the two boys, sullen but comfortable amongst his friends, had his hand pointedly only an inch away from one of the three girls, who had enormous eyes and almost red brown hair and talked a lot, nervously, as though she was worried that she'd dragged all the others to the beach unwillingly. She clearly hadn't, because the shortest of the three girls was beaming contentedly, excited that they were all together, and the quietest was... well, the other lad was doing his best to flirt with her, I recommended patience and persistence for him.

And finally, the oddest of the bunch! A late teen girl, easily the most beautiful girl on the entire beach for her goofy smile, let alone the rest of her, was matched only by the beauty of one of the two men she was with. And there I thought I was the only one on the beach, actually in all of Hasetsu, with hair like that. Again I couldn't tell his age, but... shock white, chin length hair, fox-like grey eyes, sharp chin and... unusually long ears... it must have been a trick of the light, they were normal after a second, and he glared at me before turning back to dutifully combing and styling the girl's hair. He was watched, jealously, by... I would have thought the other man was a child for how he was behaving, but I think he was the same age as the other guy. He said something, in a whiny voice, which immediately rankled his male companion - the girl didn't seem to mind at all, though having her hair done was making her blush with pleasure and I don't think she was paying much attention - and then all of a sudden the two men both sprang to their feet, seemingly to start a fight, actually  _growling_ at each other - were those fangs?! Was that a tail?! - and then the girl shouted angrily at them and they both froze, shocked, and, after a rant from her, shook hands before pulling faces and jumping apart grumpily.

... Huh.

I turned to Yuri, poked his shoulder, and quickly gestured for him to look and -

Oh. Where'd half of them go? Yuri looked at me quizzically, waited for me to explain patiently. "We had some really weird neighbours, but it looks like they've left."

"Oh..." Yuri looked down at his book and slowly closed it. "Gomen, Victor. I... this must be a bit... boring for you."

Wait, what? "No!" _Baka_ Yuri, you hadn't done anything wrong, why did you look so guilty?! "No, I was fine! It was amusing, that's all." I eyed the book that he was putting away into his bag. "Good book?"

"I..." His voice caught, piquing my interest. He looked embarrassed. I doubted he was reading Fifty Shades or something... ugh. "Ano... it..." He sighed, frustrated at himself, and pulled the book back out. "Mari-neechan used to read it to me when I was little. I never... I never actually read it myself, and I found it in my things and..." He struggled for a moment, I could tell because he wasn't sure how to put the next clearly. "It's a collection of Japanese myths. I wanted to see if the stories were how I remembered them. Mari-neechan used to act them out for me when I was a child, she..." He smiled at the memory. "She used to make me laugh."

I smiled. That was a cute memory. "And are they? Like you remember?"

He frowned, pensive. "Yes and no." He then smiled at me. "I guess... Phichit and I used to watch a lot of TV when we were... ano... meant to be studying..." He blushed a little at that confession and I chuckled. "Americans tell stories very differently than we do, but I don't know how to explain..."

That made sense to me. I'd been watching TV with the onsen regulars, who had kindly allowed me to put subtitles on, and... well, I suppose the biggest difference is that in Japan, not everything needs to be explicitly stated; sometimes the most important things are actually in the subtext. Everyone was eating about a sports drama currently airing, which was primarily about a budding relationship between the two central athletes, but at almost no time was it ever explicitly shown, remarked or referenced  _when_ they got together, yet... it's obvious that _they did_. I liked it, preferred it even. The American style would have a big lead up to it, lots of drama and hurdles to overcome and a big finale; a grand stand moment to make the fans flock to the edges of their seats.

It also made me think of... I'd recently seen a film called  _New York I Love You_. It's an anthology; a collection of shorts by different directors, writers and actors all taking place in different parts of the city that have no connection to each other, barring the common theme of love. It's a bit of a 'like it or not' film; I happen to like it, or least find it intriguing. It was a follow-up to  _Paris Je T'Aime_ , and of the two I preferred the french version, but I liked the New York one because... Maybe it's because I'm a foreigner, and I can  _tell_ that most, if not all, of the directors involved are from all over the world; they all have very different  _ways_ of telling stories.

So I could well imagine that the oldest of Japanese tales were very different to the myths of other countries. But at this point Yuri looked... he looked like he was still trying to puzzle something out. I wasn't sure if talking about it would aid at all, that perhaps it would hinder instead, so... I dropped the subject.

This time the silence felt heavy, awkward, and I felt bad for interrupting him. I laid on my back, peering up at the glare of the sun through the umbrella, like it was annoyed it couldn't get to me. I pushed my sunglasses up my nose, and sighed. I... I was suddenly reminded of -

I was chuckling before I could stop myself. Yuri looked up from the pillow of his crossed arms, puzzled. "Victor?"

"Did..." I pushed my sunglasses back down to look at Yuri un-solarized. "Has Chris ever told you about the time we went on holiday together?"

Yuri shook his head. Thank God for that.

"Huh, I'm surprised..." I was. Then again, neither Chris nor I were on Instagram at the time, and whilst I knew that Yuri and Chris were friendly, having competed together as Juniors, I don't imagine Chris would have been so cruel as to flaunt his friendship with me to Yuri; I imagine Chris would have been astute enough to know that Yuri was a fan.

I should have thought of that myself before I told this story.

"About... three... four years ago? I'd just won my second Gold at the Worlds, and Chris had made it on to the Worlds podium for the first time, he got a Bronze that year, so we were... I think I was your age? Roughly, anyway... After the Worlds, Chris turned to me and said 'we're going away. I've booked a villa, you're coming, no excuses, no arguments, do as you're told for once Nikiforov'. Well..." I paused to chuckle. Yuri sat up next to me, listening attentively. "I hadn't been on vacation for... God, I have no idea how long, but... we went to  _Ibiza_."

I paused for dramatic effect, and to gauge whether I needed to explain why most people go to Ibiza to Yuri. No need; his eyes widened on cue. It's not for reading books about myths on the beach. If Yuri had a drink there, he would have had an absolute  _blast_ in Ibiza, I'm sure, but otherwise... No. I chuckled at the very idea.

"I think I spent almost every day hungover. Don't get me wrong, I had fun, I  _definitely_ had fun, but..." I rolled over on to my side to face him. "It was _exhausting!_ " And Yuri laughed at the look on my face, haggard at the very memory. "We'd wake up late, hungover, go to the beach, _if_ we could make it - but the resort beach, not somewhere that locals would actually go to. We'd have a drink, a... 'hair of the dog'..." and I paused again to check if Yuri was familiar with the phrase. He nodded. Of course he was; he was a student until recently. "It was never actually hair of the dog though, we would just start drinking again." He laughed again. I slumped back dramatically, clutching my side. "Oh my liver hurts just thinking about it..."

Yuri chuckled, but slowly grew quiet. He was careful when he spoke. "Was... was it just the two of you?"

Jealous? "No, there was a group of us. I didn't know any of them really, I got the feeling that I was a replacement for a drop out but I was honoured that Chris asked me anyway. It was him and... err..." I pulled an awkward face. "Well, Chris referred to him as his 'holiday sex', so I don't remember his name. I think Chris told me but I didn't remember even then. Very handsome,  _very_ , but he didn't have two brain cells to rub together, which made for awkward conversation because he only spoke French and mine was comme ci comme ça. Chris' coach, Josef, was there for the first few days, then he left us to it. Chris' best childhood friend, Anna, she was there. When she was sober - well, hungover - she was a bit... bitchy. I don't think she really liked me much. Then after a few drinks she was a _relentless_ flirt." I smirked at the memory. "I think she actually had a thing for Chris... was in denial a bit that he was gay. And I think that she thought that  _I_ had a thing for him too, or that I had more influence over him than I did or something, I think that's why she was so cold when she put her mind to it. Chris thought she had a thing for  _me_ , was playing hard to get but..." I shook my head. "No. It was off-putting, her yo-yoing."

"So ka..." Yuri put in quietly. He looked sympathetic. He shouldn't have been, of a foolish group of early twenty somethings looking for  _drama_.

I was on a roll. "It was a weird holiday, actually. Particularly after Chris kept asking me if I wanted a threesome with him and Mr Holiday S-"

"EH?!"

I started, stared at Yuri. He looked... he looked  _shocked_. I didn't understand why he was reacting so strongly; his whole body was rigid, even as he realised that he'd spoke aloud and hid behind his hands, much like he did at _Onsen On Ice_ before he told me he was going to transform into the best katsudon.

"... Y-Yuri...?"

He laughed nervously. "Suimasen! Ano, I mean..." I didn't get it. Why...? I knew that Yuri was inexperienced, but I didn't think he was so much of a prude to react like that to the idea of threesomes (though whilst we're on that subject... NO. Do you really think that I would  _share_ Yuri? NO. And I don't want  _to be shared_ either). And he must have known that Chris was gay, Chris never bothered hiding the fact in any forum, was explicit about it, besides I'd just been talking about Mr Holiday Sex so... I didn't get it.

"Did... d-did you?" Yuri asked, shrinking into himself.

Did I... did I what? Oh... OH. The penny began to drop, or so I thought anyway. Maybe he really was jealous. I shook my head. "No."

Yuri slowly unwound himself. "Oh... so ka..."

He couldn't look at me. But I could look at him just fine. I tried my best to not sound teasing. "Chris and I are just friends, always have been. He's not my type anyway. Mr Holiday Sex... maybe, if he'd had more going on between his ears. I like guys with at least average intelligence." My type, it seemed, was more particular than I had realised... one example - and I loathe to find any others - was sitting right next to me.

Yuri's eyes briefly flitted up, like a shy bird, at me and scattered away, blushing. I realise he was trying not to smile with relief. "Oh," he could only say.

Oh Yuri... If I had been younger and more foolish, like I was in Ibiza (you don't ever want to know what I got up to on nights out there...), I would have been _merciless_ with you. I would have sat up, stolen the air around you, and told you precisely what my type was. I would have run my eyes and my hands over every feature as I named them; smooth black hair; big brown eyes; glasses; muscular or squishy, I didn't mind; with elegant hands and solid ankles; soft pale skin that needed sunlight and blushed at the touch of mine. If I wanted to really get your blood boiling I would have had you name your type too, to see if you listed my hair and my eyes, or surprised me with parts of me that I never give credit to.

And of course, my type was a good kisser. Difficult one to tell just by looking though... let's see...

And it all would probably backfire terribly when Yuri would panic and flee, and I wouldn't blame him at all. He'd think I was teasing... and he would technically be right.

So of course I didn't do anything that stupid, or say anything so ridiculous. When it came to it, months later in Beijing, I had no words anyway, until after.

"So... what did happen?"

I frowned. "Umm..." I'd really lost my trail of thought. There had been a point to telling Yuri this, what was it? Ah... "Not a great deal in the end, other than just... drama, every day. I kept out of it when I could. The best day was towards the end; I told Chris that I was going to explore the island properly, get off the beaten path of partiers and find some decent Spanish food. He came with me, left Holiday Sex with his friend, and... it was the best day I had the whole trip. We found this cafe...  _oh_..." I gushed, and Yuri smiled in response. "The food, Yuri! It was so simple, it was just ham and cheese and bread and coffee but it tasted so much _better_ than anything we'd been eating or drinking the whole time. And the people were so nice; the manager recognised us, he was a skating fan, and we got talking. He was so lovely, I went back by myself every day after that until we left, I even stopped going out with the others so I wasn't hungover the next day and slept properly, got to appreciate the island more. It's a beautiful place."

I smiled up at Yuri. "I can't wait until we go to Barcelona. Have you been there before?" Yuri shook his head. "It's an amazing city. If we can, we should go sightseeing, make the most of it."

Yuri smiled back shyly. "Okay. That... that sounds really nice."

I was glad. It felt like... 'it's a date', I was tempted to say. It felt like a promise. We were going to get to the Final, and have an amazing time too. After you win the Final, I thought, let's stay for a bit, spend some time together, even if... even if we're still not together by then.

We did, but... I stuck the Do Not Disturb sign out on the door the night after the Free Skate, and it stayed there for _quite a while_. We'd already gone sightseeing, gone shopping... and had some making up to do.

* * *

* * *

Victor turned to me with a smile. "I'm going to have a siesta, I think. What are you going to do? Are you going to go for a swim?"

I blanched. "Ano... no, I..." I grimaced. "I umm..." Victor frowned, puzzled. "I don't like the salt on my skin..." I explained feebly.

He smiled, understanding. "I get you. There's the showers though."

I shrugged. "I know, but..."

Victor smiled, letting me off. "Going to read then?" He turned over on to his front, stretching out like a cat, shuffling his stomach to get comfortable. My eyes got caught by the muscles in his back flexing... he really does have amazing shoulders... err...

"I..." _Wake up Katsuki_. "Err... no, I'm... I'm going to go for a walk..." Yes. Escape for a bit. "There's... Nishigori-kun says there's a really good ice cream place further up the beach."

Victor's face lit up at the mention of ice cream, and then tempered. "Do you want -" He stopped himself, reconsidering, studying my face; did I want what? He then made up his mind, and asked something else. "Can you bring me back some?"

I nodded. "Any particular flavour?"

He put a finger to his chin, thinking, then grinned at me. "I don't know! Surprise me!" He then started rummaging in his bag. "Hang on, let me give you some -"

I realised he was looking for his wallet and I shook my head emphatically, stopping his search. "No! I've got it." I shoved my own wallet into my pocket, switched my glasses for sunglasses and stood up. "See you in a bit."

Victor nodded. Makkachin looked up from his snooze between us and wagged his tail. Victor laughed and nudged the poodle. "Go on, lazy! Can he go with you?" And before I could say that it was fine if he wanted Makkachin to stay with him - he was Victor's dog after all - Makkachin stood and looked up at me excitedly, ready for a walk. I... didn't mind, actually. That would be nice, to have some nonjudgemental company.

I looked back after we were a few yards down the beach. Victor was watching, and waved. I blushed, and waved back. Makkachin stayed at my side, paw prints by my footprints. I was being guarded, I realised.

When I was down far enough, I sighed, letting out the breath I felt like I'd been holding during Victor's story.  _Oh my god... oh my god... oh my god..._

He was... I had understood that right... Victor was...

As swiftly as I let myself realise that Victor really wasn't as straight as I had originally assumed - or rather, been in denial about - a traitorous voice cut over it all.  _It doesn't change a thing_.

I stopped short, even on the sand. After a second, Makkachin biffed my hand with his nose, panted up at me. Gomen, Makkachin... watashi...

Victor was gay... right? Or bisexual, rather... I had understood that right, right?! Hadn't I?! If Chris was propositioning him on some debauched vacation, he... Chris wouldn't bother asking, Victor wouldn't bother mentioning it if... I mean... if Victor was just straight why would...  _oh_ _god_...

Makkachin whimpered and stood up on his hind legs, pawing at my thigh, this time successfully interrupting my thoughts. I unsteadily took a step forward, and another, part of me hoping that the ground would show mercy and swallow me whole. Arigato, Makkachin, for making me move; I was very close to panicking.

Two sides of my mind were warring, fiercely, violently, and I was stuck in the middle, bewildered. One half was busy evaluating my every second with Victor since he had arrived in Hasetsu, looking for signs that maybe he really was... err... _in to me_... whilst the other was tearing everything up. Why would Victor be interested in me? I was just a dime-a-dozen, virginal, anxious twenty-three year old that was having to skate to food to emulate sexuality. Victor could have  _literally_ anyone, man or woman it appeared. I had  _nothing_ to offer Victor that he could possibly want.

By the time I had run out of sand to walk on, Makkachin was whimpering again; the latter side had won, and... I was startled to find tears on my cheeks, to find that I was heartbroken.

It was your own fault, the winning side ruthlessly told me. You wished - you prayed even - for more time with Victor. You never specified what for. You still don't even know what you want -

 _Victor. I want Victor. I want everything that he'll give me_.

This simple answer silenced my mind and my knees wobbled. I folded, my hands trembling as they rose to my stomach, to cover my gaping mouth. All the moments that my head had been using to argue with flooded my mind again, but not to argue with or evaluate... to remember, and prove.

To remember Victor rising from the onsen water, buck naked in all his glory, and my stomach clenching. As he knelt before me, trailing his fingers over my hand on the floor, his fingers holding up my chin, and how my pulse raced. How I wanted to melt on the ice when he ran his thumb over my lip, leant in so close I could  _taste_ his toothpaste on the air...

Every time he smiled at me and I either wanted to hide for how naked he made me feel... or want to smile right back. How his laugh made me feel incredibly proud whenever it was my joke. How hard I worked to impress him every time I skated, and how frustrating my failures were, how doubly relieving and cutting it was when he reassured me and encouraged me to keep going.

For months I could barely stop looking at Victor, had almost given up trying to stop myself. Even now I could picture him so clearly in my head and... my stomach fluttered, my groin stirred and I became hyper aware of my breathing, of my heartbeat. I could see him, as clear as if it were happening again in front of me, that time he showed me  _Eros_ for the first time, his arms sweeping over his body before claiming the ice he skated upon. I could see his head flip toward me - his hair flicking out of his eyes, narrowed at me, seeing only me, and...  _that smirk_.

 _You know you want me_.

Yes...

I had to check I didn't have a nose bleed. I did want him... I... I wanted to... I didn't know  _what_ I wanted, had no real experience of what there was to want, but... I wanted to chase the tingle in my lips, discover the spark in my gut... _with him_. With Victor.

And just as soon as I admitted that to myself, the reminder sounded cruelly again;  _don't risk it. You don't stand a chance. Why would he want any of that with you?_

Makkachin licked the tears off my face and I hugged him, feeling very, very small. "Makkachin, I don't know what to do..." I whispered.

I'm not sure what Makkachin meant by this - he is a dog, I know he probably didn't mean much - but... when I had pulled myself together, he tugged on my beach shorts with his teeth, and ran on ahead, looked back to check I was following him back to Victor.

To pretend.

* * *

* * *

I saw him stumble.

I nearly got up, to go to him - Yuri was  _shaking_ , in this heat - but after a moment he started walking again, slowly, like he'd seen a ghost and was walking toward it.

I felt like I had made a mistake. I shouldn't have told Yuri that story. I...

I sighed, frustrated, and flopped down on to my stomach. Even though we were meant to be taking a break, having fun, we... we were both out of sorts.

I'd made Yuri jealous... I knew I had. I hadn't meant to, and I wanted to make it up to him somehow. But I still didn't understand why he was so shocked -

 _Maybe he didn't know you're bi_.

I sat up. No, surely not... I almost barked with laughter. Surely Yuri knew that?! I frowned, suddenly unsure. I had never said anything before, but... wasn't it obvious? That I liked men, that I liked  _him_ , even if he was so shy...?

Well... he knew now, I guess...

I buried my face into my towel, grinning to myself. Oh Yuri. You really were hopeless. Yet... I closed my eyes, and remembered what he'd been like in Sochi.

I'd been with Yuri long enough by then to understand the Yuri I met in Sochi better. That Yuri, Drunk Yuri, had no guards, no shield, no protection, no awareness even of his vulnerability. I knew that Yuri, just like everyone, liked having fun, liked to laugh, liked to enjoy himself, but sober he had severe limitations on himself on what fun was possible for him. Not really out of judgement, of everyone I know he's actually the most forgiving, except of himself. He doubted his own capability; sober Yuri would never pole dance in front of people because he believed he wasn't good enough to show off. But Drunk Yuri followed every impulse, because the side of his mind that would think twice, thrice, a thousand times, that would have stopped him was unconscious from too much champagne.

Drunk Yuri could jump down from the pole, stumbling and laughing as Chris carried on showing off by himself. Drunk Yuri could squint at me without his glasses and  _smirk_ , reach out, his eyes teasing and daring, the invitation to dance obvious. Drunk Yuri could laugh when I paused, picked up his clothes from the floor and fling them at him - "get dressed first!" - and Drunk Yuri could take my hand after he had pulled his shirt on, not bothering to button up properly, and yank me in to spin me around without blushing.

Sober Yuri could still dance like that. Just only behind closed doors and only with me.

I wish you remembered that moment better, moya lyubov'. I wish you could remember how much you made me laugh with delight as you flirted with me, daring me to match your moves, laughing because our timing was always off because of the grape bubbles in your head. I wish you could remember the moment you asked me to be your coach - I know you'd be mortified first - and seen me _blush_.

If you had been sober, if I wouldn't have been taking advantage... I would have taken you to my room and ground my hips right back into yours. Who knows what would have happened then?

"V-Victor?"

I opened my eyes, surprised. When did I fall asleep? How long had he been gone? I winced; the sun had even moved and I was out of the shade of the umbrella. How did the heat not wake me either? I heard panting and then Makkachin was licking my face. I smiled at the sight of my dog, and -

Yuri was touching my shoulder gingerly. I peered up at him. He smiled... at the ground. "I brought ice cream."

I looked at the cup he was holding - oh good, I should have said earlier, I'm not a fan of cones - and took it from him. "A-" I cleared my throat. I really had been asleep. I... stay on your front, Victor, your dreams were a little too pleasant. "Arigato, Yuri." He handed me a plastic spoon too and reached to adjust the umbrella. I smiled up at his back gratefully. "What flavour did you get me?"

He still wouldn't look at me... Yuri? "C-Coconut. It... it's my favourite."

I smiled at that last, even though... something was wrong, really wrong. "Yuri?" He finally looked at me, looking caught. I couldn't see his eyes because of his sunglasses, which was unsettling. "Daijōbu?"

"Ē..." He started, surprised at my Japanese. After a moment, unable to look away from my concerned face, he lightened, smiled gratefully and nodded. He took off his sunglasses with a sheepish smile, and I could see his eyes were red as they darted to my ice cream. "Is... is coconut alright? I can -"

Get me another that's not your favourite? _Sit down, Katsuki Yuri_. I reached out and touched his knee, halting him from going, and he blushed. There we go, that was more like my Yuri. Well, not mine then, but... I dug the little spoon into the cup - gelato, my favourite type too - and -

"Vkusno!"

Yuri instantly beamed, whatever had been troubling him forgotten. "Ureshī!"

I sat up as he sat down - my shorts weren't an issue anymore, somewhat killed by the cloud over Yuri's head - to better enjoy it, mirroring his posture. Don't think you're getting away with not explaining what was making you so sad, Yuri, by distracting me with good food. But then Yuri started to explain, between bites, that Chris once dragged him out for gelato when they competed as Juniors in Milan many years ago, and they got his order wrong and he'd been too shy to correct them, and that was how he discovered his favourite ice cream.

I realised that I had already heard the story before. When Chris and I went out for that day in Ibiza, and he laughed at my response to the fantastic cuisine, he said it reminded him of when he went out for ice cream with a very shy Japanese skater in Milan, who lit up and became animated when he tried gelato for the first time.

 _"A shame,"_ Chris had pouted at the time. _"He was cute as a button and had no idea that I was flirting with him. Oh well, we were a little young then, he was so small! I hear he's training with Celestino now, you know, Ciao-Ciao."_

Yuri blushed bright red as I told him. "N-Nani...?"

I blinked at him, then started laughing. "You... you really didn't have any idea, did you?!" He glared at me, wounded, but it made me laugh harder. "I... heehee... I'm sorry, Yuri, but... Chris is the most _obvious_ flirt in the world, always has been. How did you not know?!" As Yuri blushed, embarrassed, I just chuckled and smiled at him, endeared all the more. Oh moya lyubov'. If you didn't know when Chris of all people was flirting with you, you never stood a chance realising when I was, huh?

"I..." Yuri looked like he wanted to be in quicksand. "I thought... I thought he was just teasing me... I thought he was making fun of me..."

That was sobering, and I had to fight to keep my face from falling as my brain put two and two together. He must have thought I was just teasing too... shit. How could I tell him that I wasn't? I mean, I was teasing, but... teasing  _to_ flirt. How did I tell him that I wasn't teasing him right then either?

"Yuri, look at me." He did, reluctantly. I saw the hint of an apology in his eyes. He didn't owe me an apology, at all, not for anything in that moment. I thought through my words very carefully...

"I... I can't talk for Chris about whether he was serious or not, particularly back then, but... I can tell you this for certain." And I told him perfectly straight, never releasing him from my eyes. "Both Christophe and I have impeccable taste in men. And I definitely don't waste my flirtations on anybody."

Yuri's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in shock. I didn't let him go from my stare, not even when a croaking sound came out of his throat. At exactly the moment when I knew that he was running out of breath, I smiled and released him; it was a bit much for me too. I reached over and plucked his empty ice cream cup out his slack hand, stood up and headed to the nearest bin, touching his shoulder as I went past. I looked back and giggled to myself as I saw that Yuri was still staring at my vacant spot, processing. I turned away, smiling to myself, hoping... hoping that it would do the trick, and move us forward, even if it was little steps.

* * *

* * *

I... Watashi...

I couldn't think...

... I could still feel his hand on my shoulder... rooting his words into my soul, telling me the moment was real...

 _I have impeccable taste in men,_ he said, staring at me relentlessly.  _I don't waste my flirtations on anybody._

I... my whole mind was stumped.

I wanted to close my eyes and go to sleep. It had been an exhausting day.

"Yuri!" I looked up as Victor came back. Please don't tell me more things that I don't know what to do with, my head felt like it was going to explode. "It's getting late. Shall we go soon?" Oh... I looked at the sky, saw how the sun had started its descent. "Sure you don't want to swim?" I nodded. "Hmm... well, one shouldn't come to the beach and not get wet, so..."

"Huh?" I had a split second - my only warning was Victor's playful wink - before he grabbed my hand, yanked me to my feet, and tackled me into a fireman's lift, even as I squawked loudly, kicking in protest. "VICTOR!"

"Come on!" He teased, and he carried me over to the showers, and just as I buried my face into my hands, hiding from those few left on the beach who were watching and I begged him to let me down, he did, and quickly stepped away and hit the button for the showers. I squealed like a pig as  _freezing_ water rained on me, arching my back and I darted forward, away; wrong direction.

"Ah-ah!" And Victor pushed me back under, his hands on my head, and I gasped and grimaced at the iciness of the water. In retaliation I scrambled for the button for the shower over  _him_ , and he too gasped loudly at the sudden freeze, and started laughing as my own hands fumbled to force him under too.

Before I knew it... I was laughing too. I was disappointed when the water cut off above me first. When it did the same over Victor, he flicked his hair back, laughed again, making me grin, even as I shivered. He threw his arm round my shoulders and started walking me back to our things. "Come on, let's go home. 'Kaerou', right?"

I nodded. "Hmm. Kaerou."

"Race you."

"Eh?"

And he sprinted off, making me shout after him. No fair! I ran after him, packed my things and got dressed again at a mad rush as he did the same, both of us giggling all the while, and as he turned to take care of the umbrella I cheated and took the lead, Makkachin following excitedly. "Oi!"

I laughed, twisted to look back, slowing so he could catch up, then sped up again so I was out of reach, and we ran all the way home like that together.

Victor has a wonderful habit of this. Of saying something or doing something completely ridiculous... and making me smile so much I forget to care about anything. It's one of the countless things that I love about him, and probably one of the many things that made me fall in love with him that summer.

It was probably a good thing. We got home in time for dinner, and Victor, always ravenous for Oka-san's cooking, sat down to eat, delaying showering. We talked easily about our plans for the next day - he wanted to work on my step sequences only, which I was looking forward to, because it meant he'd skate with me to mirror - and...

"Yuri?"

We were in the locker room, undressing to bathe. I wasn't looking forward to the onsen for once; I suspected I had caught too much sun on my shoulders, and it was going to sting. "Hmm?" I returned as I stuffed my things in my locker.

"... I think I'm going to need some aloe vera or something..."

"Huh?" I turned in my towel, not thinking that I might be intruding, and saw Victor in a towel too, frowning at the reflection of his back in the mirror. I started; his skin was blisteringly bright red, all over his shoulders. "Vicchan! What -"

We both realised what I'd just called him at the same time and I stammered, uncertain. He stared at me, surprised, then a soft smile spread over his face, warmed. I shook my head, chose to ignore the moment, and gestured to his sunburn. "How...? You were using factor 50!"

Victor looked over his shoulder again at the mirror, wincing as it pulled the angry skin. "I... I fell asleep, and then sun came out from the umbrella. I should have put more on after I went swimming."

Instantly I felt guilty; I should have offered. "I... go and shower, I'll go see what we've got." Victor nodded as I threw enough clothes back on to go find my mother to explain the predicament. As it turned out, she didn't have anything; she offered to go to the Konbini, already getting ready to leave, calling to Oto-san where she was going and to mind their guests. I went back to Victor to explain, and found him grimacing as he ran cold water over his back. I took the shower head from him, dialled down the pressure and ran the softer spray over his shoulders.

"I... I don't feel so great..." Victor admitted in nearly a whisper. I'd never heard him tell me when he wasn't alright. Even when he was hungover I never heard him complain. Whine, certainly, clinging to me for comfort, but he never complained. I wasn't surprised that he didn't feel well; we'd both been drinking water through the day, but really not enough; I felt dehydrated too.

I turned off the water for him. "Go upstairs, lie down," I told him gently. "I'm going to shower too, I'll be right up after. Oka-san's gone to get you something, okay?"

Victor frowned over his shoulder, not meeting my eyes. "She didn't have to do that -"

"Victor, you look like a cooked lobster," I interrupted. My way of saying that yes, we did have to look after him. If she hadn't have gone, I would have.

Victor's eyes widened and then he chuckled, wincing again as his sore skin stretched. I... I wanted to touch him, to reassure him... but I would have put my hand on his shoulder ordinarily and that wouldn't have helped at all. I had to settle for just a smile. "Go on. I won't be long, I'll be quick." I didn't like the idea of Victor being in pain alone. I didn't like the idea of him being in pain at all.

He nodded, and I stepped back, took the cubicle next door and sat on the stool, out of his way as he gingerly stood. As he passed on his way out, he frowned. "You've caught the sun on your shoulders too..."

I shrugged. "It's not that bad." It wasn't; at least I could move without wincing. He nodded and left. His permanently pink nose was red too.

I showered quickly, blushing as 'Vicchan' caught up with me. I... that was embarrassing. I don't know why I called him that... it just came out.

I never call him that. 'Vicchan' was the name of my dog, who I lovingly named after a legend who inspired me, from a time before I truly knew Victor. I wanted Victor to stay who he really was, not the enigmatic idol I knew so little about from the posters that I'd taken down, so I've only called him by his name. He likes it, the way I pronounce it. Or, later, 'anata'; 'darling'.

When I was done, Oka-san came back, and handed me a bag with a smile. "Hope Vicchan feels better soon!" She said, and left me to it. Oh, I guess my family call him that, but... the same way that I'm Yuri-chan, I guess. Victor-chan is an awkward choice over Vicchan.

I went upstairs to Victor's room, in just a t-shirt and boxers, ready to go to bed after, and found Victor sprawled on his front on his bed in his pyjama bottoms. My heart clenched for him; he looked like he wanted to be sick. I carefully stepped in, up on to his bed next to him, and he smiled up at me. "Hey..."

I smiled back as best I could, reassuringly. "Hey," I whispered back. I held up the bag Oka-san gave me, and Victor sighed with relief, and eyed every product as I took them out.

Aloe vera after-sun gel. Rehydration fluid. Bags of frozen peas. And - this amused us both - dorayaki, in case we wanted something sweet. Victor smiled at that. "She knows me so well, your Oka-san. I think I'm going to need them."

He slowly sat up on the bed as I went to get a spare towel, and I sat behind him on my return. I hesitated briefly, then grabbed the bottle of aloe vera and squeezed copious amounts directly on to his shoulders and gently - he hissed anyway, tensing from the sting - started spreading it over his red skin, handing him the rehydration fluid to drink. He grimaced at the taste, but kept sipping it anyway. When I was done, I grabbed the peas and a towel, made a cold compress, and gave him a warning. "Ready?" He nodded, but still jumped as I laid it - I had enough bags of peas for the length of his shoulders, tucking them all into the towel - over his back, and shushed gently.

"I'm sorry, Yuri..." Huh? I peered over his shoulder. What for? "I should have taken better care today..."

I chuckled, returned my attention to adjusting the compress over his back. "Don't worry about it, Victor." I picked up the bottle of gel and passed it to him. "Here. Your nose is pink too."

"It's always pink."

"I know. Pink _er_."

He gave a breathy chuckle and dabbed the gel on his nose, both wincing and sighing. "Feels cool... feels nice."

I smiled, stroked the back of his head before I could think not to. "Good."

Victor slowly dipped his head back, leaning back against the compress, against my hands holding it in place. After a little while he started to shiver, despite the heat stuck in his body, and I put the compress to one side for a moment, examined whether or not to put more gel on his skin. "Yuri?"

"Nani?"

Victor slowly started to turn around, gesturing for me to do the same. "Let me... I know yours isn't as bad, but still.."

I was about to decline, but he looked so wretched... I didn't have the heart to argue. I obediently turned, took off my t-shirt self-consciously, heard the bottle open and the splurging noise of the gel being squirted into his hands, and then he rubbed his hands together to spread the gel and... I tried not to start as he smoothed his hands over my shoulders, exactly like in the morning, but far gentler. I hummed, satisfied, when he was done, was about to turn when - 

He hugged me from behind, wrapped his arms round me. I froze...  _what the... Victor!_ I frowned; his head was on my shoulder, turned away, and his weight was almost dead draped over me. I turned my head a little, but could only see the back of his head. Victor...?

"Arigato, Yuri... I... I know I look like shit right now, but... I had a really nice day with you. I'm glad we did this. Thank you."

Slowly, I lifted my hands to touch his arms tentatively over my chest. I thought of all the most awkward moments of the day... then of us at the end, laughing as we chased after each other. I smiled and squeezed his arms. "Me too."

Victor hummed in welcome, exhausted. After a moment I pried his arms off of me, and bade him to lie down. He obediently shuffled up the bed, grabbed one of his many pillows and laid on his front with it. I put more gel on his back, got him to lean up enough to drink the water he had by his bedside, reapplied the peas. I pulled his sheet over him, up to the edge of his sunburn, and... ran out of things I could do for him. I... I ought to go...

"Yuri..." Victor murmured, his eyes half closed. "That... that book you were reading... the myths... was there one in particular you wanted to read, or was it all of them?"

"Uh..." I was surprised, then I smiled. Was this your way of asking me to stay a bit longer? "There was one..." Victor peered up at me, silently asking me to elaborate. "It's about a girl with a bowl on her head."

"Huh?!" Victor frowned and we both chuckled. I glanced at the remaining pillows, and he nodded slightly. I gingerly took one and laid down next to him, over the covers, not wanting to push things. But I was level, not sat over him. Gravity was doing the job of holding down the compress.

I thought of how Mari-neechan told this story to me, when I was so young I had only just started school. Looking back, I think she found this tale the most boring of the ones from the book, but... even then, it resonated with me.

"The bowl was the wish of a dying peasant woman..." I began, before realising I needed to add more detail. "Her husband was a farmer, but he had died, and she was sick, and worried about the fate of her daughter. Her daughter was very beautiful, had a good soul, but was still quite young, and her mother was worried that she would be taken advantage of, would fall prey to a more unsavoury fate. So she prayed long and hard to the gods for help, so that after she was gone her daughter would be protected. Then, after a very strange dream, she woke to find a bowl on her bed, upside down. The gods whispered in her ear, and told her what to do.

"She called her daughter to her, and asked one last thing of her; to wear that bowl on her head and never take it off. She told her that it would keep her safe, and she placed the bowl on her daughter's head, jammed it tight, and soon passed away."

Victor shuffled, to get comfortable, and I took off the compress from his back. He said nothing, listening. I realised then... he was always like this. I always had his attention. "The girl grew up, became a servant in a rich man's home. The bowl on her head amused people, and a few tried to take it off, but it wouldn't budge, and eventually people left her to it. She worked hard, was gentle and modest, and impressed the lord for her diligence to her tasks, and he asked her to be a maid to his wife. The lady liked her too, came to care for her like a daughter of her own, none of them ever aware of how pretty she was under the bowl she never took off from her head that obscured her face so much. But the girl was happy; she was cared for, had purpose, was safe... her parents would have been proud.

"Then the lord's eldest son returned home from his studies in the city. He... was a sensitive young man, who had grown weary of the hedonism of the capital and was glad to return to quiet country life. His mother raved to him about how good her maid was to her, and he decided to seek her out to thank her... and he caught a glimpse of her face, reflected in the pond as she fed the koi carp, and he instantly fell in love with her."

Victor smiled. "Ah, so it's a love story, is it?"

I blushed. "I-I guess."

"What happened?"

"The son went back to his family, and told them that he wanted to marry her, the girl with the bowl on her head. In fact he was insistent, but his elders were scandalised. She was only a servant, they said, the daughter of peasants, a nobody. And  _why_ did she have that ridiculous bowl on her head - perhaps it was to hide terrible ugliness beneath. People began to gossip again, spread bitter rumours... and he dismissed them all as ill-natured lies, and stuck by his decision.

"But when he went to ask her if she would marry him, she said, with gratitude but certainty... no."

Victor started, surprised, having not expected this turn. "Hmm... still, he told her he wouldn't give up on her, that he would wait for her, and continued to stick up for her to his relatives, even as they smarted from his rejection. Who did she think she was, they said, to say no to him? Was he, the master's son who would inherit all, not good enough for her?

"And she heard everything." Victor's eyes widened with sympathy. "The truth was... she was in love with the son too, had wanted to say yes, but she didn't want trouble, didn't want to ruin things for everyone, and... she didn't think she deserved him either. She decided to leave, but the night before she was going to go she cried herself to sleep and her mother came to her in a dream, with the blessing of the gods. And when she woke and the son came back to ask her again, she said yes with all her heart.

"So, despite everyone's grumblings - even the girl's mistress had turned against her - a wedding was set. The day came for the happy couple, and the bride tried to take the bowl off from her head so she could be married in the proper style. But it still wouldn't come off, and when everyone else tried the bowl emitted cries of pain, scaring everyone. The groom however was determined, and consoled his wife-to-be; he loved her, bowl or not." We both smiled at that, at that sentiment. "They married, and, when the vows were made and they raised their sake, the bowl shattered to pieces and fell to the floor in a shower of precious stones - diamonds, rubies, emeralds, pearls - gold and everything... her dowry from the gods. And finally everyone saw how beautiful she really was, and why the son had kept faith in her... and shut up about her being nothing."

Victor grinned. "And did they live happily ever after?"

I grinned back and nodded. "Hm-hmm."

"It's a nice story," he said gently. Then he smiled teasingly, reached for one of the pillows still piled up, and put it on top of my head, covering my face up completely, despite my muffled protestations. "What do you reckon? Think lots of gold medals will come out if I move this?"

"Victor!"

He giggled and tossed the pillow back to the head of the bed. I couldn't be annoyed with him; he was smiling serenely, the pain from his sunburn temporarily forgotten. "Do they all have happy endings like that, the myths in your book?"

I frowned, thinking of the sad farewell of the Moon Princess, of the cruel death of the old man's dog that were used to make dead trees bloom, of the vengeance of the sparrow princess on the greedy old woman who hurt her so spitefully, and the fisher boy who fell in love with a sea princess and went back home to fall victim to old age and never saw her again. "No, they don't."

Victor frowned too. "Oh. Don't tell me about those then, not tonight. Which ones do end well?" And he shut his eyes sleepily, making me smile affectionately.

I don't think he heard the whole tale, I'm sure he fell asleep halfway through, but I started telling him about the Hare of Inaba, who tricked the crocodiles so that he could cross the sea and who pulled out his fur in retaliation, and how he fell victim to the pranks of passing princes who told him he'd be cured by bathing in the salty sea and rolling on the sand and sitting in the baking sun, and that all ended well when a good samaritan passed and advised him to bath in the clean waters of a nearby pool, dry in the shade, and roll in flowery pollen to make his fur grow back...

I woke in the middle of the night, disorientated and startled by the fact that the first thing I saw was Victor's sleeping face. He must have woken too at some point, because he'd moved a little closer and I was under the covers. Even so... I got up and left, went to use the bathroom, blushing. I'd fallen asleep in Victor's bed before, but not for a while, not since I had run in to have him listen to Ketty's piece. I came back, started to head for my own room...

I'd left the door open, and Makkachin was sprawled across my bed. His tail wagged once, pointedly;  _my bed tonight_. I... I genuinely felt like I'd been kicked out by the dog, it wasn't an excuse!

I didn't notice Victor smile as I got back into bed next to him. It took a while to get back to sleep, distracted, but... it felt good, just being there, having him there. It felt... right.

* * *

* * *

I made a promise that night, when I woke to find that Yuri had fallen asleep next to me, and I tucked him in. I made a promise as I carefully stroked his hair back, careful not to wake him, unable to help it anymore. As I closed my eyes, grateful for all that Yuri had done for my sunburn, grateful in particular because it didn't sting quite so badly already, I promised this:

Just like the son who fell in love with the girl with the bowl on her head...

_I wouldn't give up either._

* * *

To be continued in...

_Everything on the Ice_

**Author's Note:**

> Lot of homages in this one! I wonder how many readers will recognise the cameos on the beach! I couldn't resist :-P
> 
> So this was meant to be relatively short... and take only a few days... oops.


End file.
